


Northern Lights

by hips_of_steel



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 20:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2441414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hips_of_steel/pseuds/hips_of_steel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night, after the pair have studiously avoided each other for years, Alfred shows up on Ivan's doorstep, sobbing. While trying to comfort Alfred, Ivan has to confront the demons that have haunted him for eighty years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Northern Lights

Ivan Braginsky had never expected to see Alfred on his doorstep ever again.

It had been so long. The fight, the screaming.

He had tried to atone for the sins of the past, but nothing could ever fix the problems he was at fault for creating.

So when he opened the door, and Alfred practically fell into his arms, he wasn't sure if he should be happy or angry.

“Al, what the hell?”

“Please let me in. I didn't know where else to go!”

Ivan guided him inside, and then he saw the tears streaking down Al’s face.

“What happened?”

Al said nothing.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“Fuck off. It’s none of your business anyhow.”

Now he’d done it. “Fuck off? You show up here, unannounced and sobbing, and I’m the one that needs to fuck off?”

Al sighed, and then his voice went soft. “Please. I just need some time to calm down.”

Ivan finally nodded. “There’s clean bedding in the guest bedroom. I assume you still know where it is.”

Once Alfred answered in the affirmative, Ivan headed up to bed.

*** * ***

Alfred had been young, and naive. He was adorable.

Ivan should have left him alone, but he couldn't help it.

Once independence was gained, Ivan showered the young man with gifts. Al tried to keep up, giving Ivan as much as he could, but eventually Al’s presents in return became closer to something else.

Ivan didn’t realize what he was doing to Al until he woke up to find the bed empty, and soon realized Alfred was crying in the bathroom. He reached out to touch Al, and Al had jumped, scared.

That’s when he realized that he’d been unintentionally pressuring him into everything.

He’d left the next day.

Al had shown up a week later, angry as hell. “What, am I not good enough or something?”

“Fredka, I think I may have taken this too far. You weren't ready, and…”

“I was old enough to consent by then! If I hadn't wanted your attention, I would have told you!”

Ivan had suddenly whirled. “Just because you were old enough didn't mean you knew what you were doing! That first night, I practically threw you onto the bed. You had no warning, no chance to object!”

Alfred had paused.

“You should hate me.”

Alfred had sat there in silence, and then he silently sorted through the drawers, taking the few items that he owned, and leaving.

They had barely spoken since.

*** * *** ****

Ivan found him asleep on the couch the next morning.

He thought about waking him, but decided against it.

He cooked oatmeal. It was bland, but he didn't care.

Eventually, he heard a yawn from the living room.

“Hungry, Fredka?”

Al stumbled into the kitchen. “I need coffee. And a shot of whiskey in it.”

“I don’t have any whiskey.”

Al shrugged. “Fine, just the coffee then.”

Ivan got up and poured him a cup, pushing it across the table. Al took a sip and winced. “You call this coffee?”

“It’s what you left here. I brewed it when I saw that you were still here this morning.”

Al raised an eyebrow. “You mean, coffee from a can, and the can was from when we were still…? Ew, this stuff goes bad eventually, you know.”

Ivan shrugged. “I don’t usually drink it.”

“No, I guess you don’t.”

The silence between the two was almost a living thing, threatening them with the emptiness.

Finally, Al spoke. “I suppose you want to know why I’m here.”

“The question has indeed crossed my mind a few times.”

Al took a deep breath. “Arthur broke up with me last night. He started insulting me, and then things took a turn for the worse.”

Ivan sat in the temporary silence, wondering what had happened.

“I slammed him to the floor, and then I… I was about to… I thought I might… I managed to stop before I did anything, but all I could think of was what you said, upstairs, the last time I was here.”

Ivan nodded. “Is he hurt?”

“No. I asked him before I ran away. He was scared of me, though. I’d never done anything like that before.”

Ivan paused, and then asked. “So, why come here?”

“Because I needed to ask you something.”

“Well, I’m listening, Fredka.”

“What do you do when you’re afraid of yourself?”

The quiet settled about them once again.

Finally, Ivan stood. “I cut myself off from the ones I loved. I feared that if they were near me, I’d lash out, and be unable to stop myself. I refused to let them get close to me.”

“But the emptiness can threaten to consume you, Fredka. I eventually reclaimed my family, by using force. I had no friends, no one even remotely close to me. I was a stranger to my sisters, and feared by all those who lived under me and near me.”

“I cannot answer your question, Fredka. It has been one that has haunted me since the day I saw you crying on the floor.”

With that, he turned and walked upstairs.

Alfred sat in silence, contemplating Ivan’s advice for about an hour, before heading upstairs to do something he should have done long ago.

***** * *** **

Ivan lay in bed. Sure it was only halfway through the morning, but after that conversation, he wished he could go back to sleep and not wake up for days.

He heard the door creak open, and said nothing. Eventually, he felt him climb into bed and press himself against Ivan.

“You shouldn't be here, Fredka.”

“I want to be.”

Ivan sighed, and tried to lean away, but Alfred pulled him closer suddenly, in an uncomfortable embrace.

“Let me go, Fredka!” Ivan snapped.

“Not until you listen to me.”

Ivan turned around to shove Al away, but Al grabbed his wrists. Ivan snarled.

“Please Ivan, listen to me!”

Finally he calmed down, unable to escape.

_“You don’t have to be scared anymore.”_ Al said, the Russian nearly perfect.

Ivan felt Al release his wrists, and then repeat the words, in English this time.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore, Ivan.”

Ivan felt his breath catch, and then, for one of the first times in nearly a millennium, he felt tears fill his eyes.

Alfred pulled him close, and then, for what felt like hours, Ivan clung to Al, sobbing silently into his chest.

***** * *** **

Arthur didn't want visitors, and he certainly wasn't expecting them. It had been three days since Al had fled.

He opened the door to find Ivan standing there.

“What the hell do you want?”

“To request that you give him a chance to speak. I don’t ask you to agree, I only ask you to listen, for his sake.”

Arthur looked past Ivan to see Alfred standing there. He sighed. “Fine, but if I tell you two to leave, you’ll do it, understood?”

“Understood.”

***** * *** **

Ivan stood in the kitchen, hearing bits and pieces of the conversation from the living room.

“I know that sorry won’t cut it…”

“You have a hell of a lot to explain…”

“I just…”

Ivan waited, holding his breath.

Finally, both men entered the kitchen. Both of them showed signs of tears, now long gone.

Arthur offered them tea, and then he politely showed them to the door.

As they walked, the night grew darker. Upon reaching Ivan’s house, the stars danced and sparkled above them.

Standing outside, Ivan finally asked him. “Did he forgive you?”

“Yeah. He said things were going to be strained, but he said that he forgave me.”

Another pause.

“Have you forgiven yourself?”

“I don’t know.”

They looked up at the stars. As the night grew even darker, the light show of the Aurora Borealis began to play across the night sky, silent ribbons of color in the dark.

Finally, Al spoke. “I think I missed this the most. Standing with you, looking at the stars and the Aurora.”

Ivan whispered something.

“Huh?”

“I've missed it too, Fredka.”

Al reached out and took Ivan’s hand. “You know, that night, when I was crying, it wasn’t because you’d hurt me. It was because I felt that you weren’t happy anymore, and I thought it was my fault.”

“Fredka…”

Al saw that Ivan was looking at him, unsure of what to do.

Al grabbed his scarf, pulling him down and then he pressed his lips to Ivan’s.

He felt Ivan’s hands move, hesitantly.

He pulled away for a moment. Ivan nearly jumped back.

“Ivan, I know what I’m doing now. I’m not an innocent child anymore. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“Are you sure about this, Fredka?”

Al looked at the sky, remembering long ago.

_He’d stared at the colorful ribbons in amazement._

_“Ivan, what are those?”_

_“Huh?”_

_“The lights in the sky!”_

_Ivan stood behind him now, looking up. “Oh. Those are the Northern Lights.”_

_“They’re beautiful.”_

_“As are you, Fredka.”_

_Al had turned towards Ivan, mildly confused, only to have Ivan’s lips pressed to his._

“Yes. You’re my Northern Light, Ivan. I’m sure.”

And then, as they had long ago, Ivan’s lips came crashing down onto his, and for the first time in nearly eighty years, a pair of lovers could find themselves content in each other’s arms.

********  
  



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